I sat on my usual folding camping stool on a little corner of ‘wasteland’ full of curly dock waiting for the usual sound of birds I always hear at this particular spot.

I felt especially conspicuous since it seems such a random place for someone to spend any time on.

But there were a few reasons I decided to sit at this seemingly undesirable spot.
One morning I decided to take one of my ‘physio walks’ which is basically a small walk where I walk a circular around the block where I live.
I’m not good at getting up early in the morning but I’d managed it on this particular day and as the light of the day was still young and clear of clouds it had lit up the spot in such a way it looked like the perfectly lit place for photography. Add to that, the left over bit of wall with ivy and brambles made for a good background made all the more atmospheric by the water vapour rising on nearby fences.

I thought to myself, ‘now I remember why I like to try and get up and out early in the morning.’

So, today, much later than I had originally planned because as mentioned above I’m shit at getting up early, I figured if I didn’t go today I might not go tomorrow or the day after so despite it now being later I decided to go for it.

The usual wren turned up and the usual sounds of birds started, a blackbird perched on a small tree that hung over from someone’s garden to the left me.
The wren flitted between the Ivy and the brambles and the left over remnants of protective barbed wire.
A dunnock perched on some brambles right next to some of the wire.

The sharp wire jutting out like blades and yet these tiny birds didn’t seem too worried by their sharpness.
But then I reminded myself for all their smallness this is the way in which they have been cut, to be hardy creatures that could go against the grain of humanity’s force upon the world.

And so it was here at this small apocalyptic looking triangle of land that I saw strength in a wasteland.


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